Protector of the Protector
by Kisa Darkhorse
Summary: The griffon disappeared after Squire. Due to this oversight of one of my favorite creatures and the lack of griffon stories here I wrote this second person one-shot showing the griffon's journey. "Three years. Short by human standards. Infinitesimal by immortals standards. Yet here you are. Strong, wild, and nearly grown."
1. Protector of the Protector

**Ok, this is my first one-shot ever, my first attempt at second person pov in a while, my first and only completed story here. Bear with me on any mistakes. Now, the griffin was an important character in Squire but after that it disappeared. At least Lalasa came back from time to time. The griffon just fell off the map. Because of that and the lack of griffon stories in this archive I wrote this. It's pretty much brain vomit but it just wouldn't stop. Hopefully, it's not too rough. Tell me what you think.**

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Three years. Short by human standards. Infinitesimal by immortals standards. Yet here you are. Strong, wild, and nearly grown. You still have some of your orange hatchling feathers but your wings are long and swift and your cries shout a challenge to the world. But war and death is not what you wish for today. Today you seek the one who made you into what you are. An abomination among your own kind. One who helps the humans. One who craves the sound of one mortal's voice. One that considers a human your family.

Through the bond you share with her you know she is well. A bond you made by accident. When you first saw her you were covered in small scratches and you quickly created scratches of your own on her. Some of you blood mixed with hers and you certainly tasted enough as you often tried to bite that hand. Your bond was made by blood. It is why you seek her now. You refuse to lose any more family.

Your mother and father are dead. Killed in an attack by a desperate mage. The mage tried to steal your family's new egg and your father attacked. As your mother flew in to help your father the mage completed one last spell killing your parents but also killing himself in the process. Your cries echoed through the valley as you mourned your family. They became even wilder when you realized the chick in the egg had ceased life as well. You were alone. Now you have hope. Now you will protect the last you consider as kin.

You still remember her. Her characteristics are burned into your memory. Her voice was steady and calming as the sound of the sea unlike the shrill voices of other females of her kind. Her scent was masked sometimes by steel, leather, and sweat but underneath that was the scent of the forest at night. Refreshing and soothing, her scent was a breath of fresh air among all those stuffy and potent smelling mortals.

Now you fly south to the forests you traveled in three years ago. As you fly you catch just a whiff of the scent you seek. Truly an old scent but laced with fear. You land next to the river and breathe in deeply. She was here once. You can smell her scent again as she passed through again wounded and exhausted but alive. You wonder sometimes how mortals live without being able to truly see and experience their surroundings. You feel her though your bond again. She is safe and content. But now you are curious. You know she is never to cross this river. Boundaries are human concept that you loathe to understand and yet you know the punishment of crossing is death. Why did she? She will be safe for the time it takes for you to understand and you take to the air again.

You pump your wings as you follow the old scent through the forbidden lands. Her scent changes from time to time and you know she wouldn't be foolish enough to cross alone but any scent other than hers has faded over time. It is your bond alone that enables you to still track her scent at all. You reach an open area where her scent is slightly stronger and more determined. She fought here. But she was not wounded. Her scent is spiked with fear and you can tell she traveled faster from here on. Again you come to a place where her scent grows stronger but grows desperate. You wonder why. You remember her as strong, unmovable. What could cause her such torment? You land seeking any signs that might answer your queries.

There. By the tree-line, a small doll. All but destroyed over time. A misshapen thing that more resembles an ogre than a true human but it confirms your thoughts. She was always protecting those who could not defend themselves. Someone hurt or took one of her chicks. Not even the Ganiel, the Dream King, can create nightmares that can match a mother defending her young. And all in care were her young. Her trespass explained, you take to the skies to find the end of her journey into this treacherous land. You reach the end of her trail quickly. Flying over a small village, you see people working in the shadow of a stone nest. A castle, you remember they are called. The village smells only faintly of her and impatience. It is the castle that attracts you.

Descending into the courtyard, you notice human guards reaching for weapons but you sense no threat in them. Merely humans defending their home. Stormwings and their foul odor circle the walls but her scent is what you focus on. Here is a heady mix of fear, determination, hate, and pain. You would be scared for her if you could not sense her safety and smell the small undercurrent of satisfaction. Here is where she caught the hunter foolish enough to take her young. She killed him here and returned home. You know there is indeed much more to this story but now your curiosity is sated and you prepare to leave.

As you ready to take off one stormwing comes closer. You wait for her to speak. Stormwings are not pleasant creatures but they rarely speak without something to say. She studies you looking for something you can only guess at but as she speaks you know your human will be in legends to come. The stormwing merely tells you to send her greetings to your human when you finally see her again. Such a small gesture but for it to come from a stormwing means that her story will pass from one flock to another until the whole of the divine realms echoes with her name. You nod your assent to the hovering stormwing and begin your journey south again.

You fly faster now, no longer following an old trail. The forest flashes below you. You pump harder eager to be reunited with the one who cared for you as her own chick. The one who treated you as an older sister would. The river is a glittering snake as you soar over it. Now you put your beak to the wind and seek her unique scent. There. You veer a little to the east and follow the direction of the rising sun until you come across a wooden nest. It looks like a town but the walls are thick and sharp. But as you finally catch her scent and hear her voice again for the first time you understand. No one will ever hurt her young again.

You hear the shouting of the humans and the soldiers reaching for bows but you ignore them. You know that she won't recognize you right away. You have grown from the small chick she took care of. You fly just out range of their silly bows and land in a field and wait. You know she will come. You merely need to wait. Not more than five minutes later she rides out of her gates on that infernal horse followed by those annoying soldiers she traveled with when she took care of you. As they near the soldiers horses grow skittish. Many fear a grown griffon. But her horse trots closer, unafraid. Even when the soldier's horses will come no closer, she rides on. She is carrying her sword but you know she will not use it unless she has to. You know the exact moment she recognizes you. Her scent changes from wary to surprised. She sheathes her sword and dismounts. The horse glares at you but you know he is merely keeping up old traditions. She calms the wildest of beings. You yourself are an example. She approaches cautiously. She is still not sure it's you. But she takes off her helmet and puts it down. She looks the same as she did when you left. She is taller now but her hair remains the short brown and her eyes are still the kind dreamer's hazel. Stretching out a hand, she finally speaks.

_Is that you Beast?_

Her voice is still calming and strong as the sea. You feel a sense of nostalgia at the old nickname. The men behind her are shocked but you feel the need to answer in kind. You playfully snap at her hand. She moves it fast enough to avoid being bitten even as a smile comes to her face. You give in and bring your head down to nuzzle her. You are taller than her now. She responds by stroking your feathers and pulling out a loose one. You squawk your indignation but you feel no ill will. You found her again. You found the Protector and now you will protect her until you die. Because you are the abomination. Because you are the griffon who chose a human as kin instead of your own kind. Because even the Protector needs a protector.


	2. A Bloody Blaze

**You guys are great. I know you want this expanded and it took a while to come up with a decent 2nd part but here it is. Hope you enjoy!**

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You look up at the sound of approaching hoof-beats. You had been resting on the roof of the stables. The horses did not like it but the human warriors had given up trying to make you move. The Protector asked her chick to calm the foolish creatures and they now tolerated your presence. You still remember her amusement as the soldiers had walked up to you and attempted to remove you from your perch. Her face had remained impassive but amusement and mild exasperation rolled off her in waves to anyone who could smell it.

Now all you can smell is the exhaustion from the approaching horse and the fear from its rider. The humans quickly open the walls of the nest to let the struggling pair in. You become even more interested when the rider immediately calls out for the Protector. She comes quickly and reads the small scrap of paper the agitated rider hands her. You watch as her brows furrow and her scent becomes tainted by fury and disgust. You leap down as she calls for her chicks to saddle her horse and horses for the soldiers. The foolish messenger looked at you before attempting to draw his sword. You ignore him in favor of approaching the Protector. She looks at you in mild annoyance for scaring the envoy but her interest soon returns to the paper. You peer over her shoulder in an attempt to decipher the scratches humans used to communicate while you hear the farmers explain to the messenger why the Protector is not afraid of you. You would snort in amusement if you could not feel the agitation and fury still coming off of the Protector.

You look up from the meaningless scratches when the Protector's own chick appears at her elbow with her horse while another chick holds her armor and sword. You watch as she tucks the message in her belt pouch and puts her armor on. A squad of soldiers in full armor runs up to her as she finishes. You become worried when she silences them before they ask any questions. She thanks her chicks and mounts her horse with her soldiers close behind. You move to follow but the Protector stops you with a look.

_Stay here and watch over the village, Beast._

You want to caw out your protest when you sense a change in her scent. Fear. She is afraid. She wants you to protect her chicks. You walk up to her horse, ignoring the looks of frustration on her face and annoyance on the horse's. Reaching behind you, you quickly pluck a loose feather from your wing and present it to her. You watch as her face takes on a slight look of confusion as she examines your gift while the messenger begins fidgeting on his horse. She looks up at you and you bend down to preen her gently before nuzzling her. She smiles softly as you turn and jump back to the stable roof. You watch as they ride through the gates with the Protector at the front.

You watch as the people return to their lives. Soldiers train and drill, farmers plow and seed, mothers wash and cook. The sun begins its descent while teams of horses and men pull freshly cut trees into the village. It is nearly nightfall when you sense it. The bond made by blood hums with agony. The Protector, your kin sister, is in pain. You have watched enough. Now, it is time to fly.

You leap into the air, startling dozens of people. That does not matter though. All that matters is reaching the Protector. You roar your challenge to anyone who would dare try to stop you. Following the bond and the scent of her early ride, you fly west. You feel her becoming weaker and you push your wings to even greater speeds. You will kill this enemy. You call out your bloodlust to the heavens and you hear the birds of the forest respond with cries of fear.

You fly until you reach a clearing where the soldiers who traveled with her are gathered. They gape at you in surprise when you land in their midst. A soldier is holding her helmet. You glance around, trying to find her, but she is not here. The clearing is littered with the corpses of bandits. At the edge of the clearing, a group of soldiers attempts to tend to a wounded horse. You are surprised to see that is actually her horse. You check the bond again. She is still in pain but it has not grown greater. You need to go to her but she will need her chicks safe too. You walk to the group attempting to help the stubborn creature. The old horse glares at you and you can read the fear for his rider in those eyes. An understanding passes between you both. He was wounded trying to protect her and now you will find her and bring her home. The soldiers watch amazed as the horse stops struggling and lets a healer tend to him. You walk to the leader of her soldiers and point your beak towards the village. You know he understands but he opens his mouth to argue. You caw loudly, getting the attention of everyone in the clearing. Your patience has run out. Your kin sister is in trouble and you are forced to argue with these mortals. The Protector's horse comes over and bites the sergeant's shoulder. You watch as the horse begins pulling the human in the direction of the village. The other mounts begin walking in the direction of the village leaving their riders to scramble in an attempt to follow. The Protector's horse releases the sergeant and meets your gaze again. You understand. The soldiers will return home. You nod your head to the horse before leaping into the air again.

Finally you are free to find her and bring her back to safety. Whatever has harmed her will meet a painful end. You will see to that personally. You follow the bond again as it directs you to angle north. You push your wings to make up as much time as possible after arguing with those foolish mortals. Were it not for your kin sister, you would have remained far away from the ignorant creatures.

Your sharp vision makes out a shape half hidden in the trees. A small camp seemingly deserted. You look closer however and make out a structure covered in illusion spells. To any mortal, it would appear that there is nothing there but illusion spells are useless against a griffin. You land quietly nearby. You find the bond again and confirm what you suspected. A mage has captured the Protector and is holding her in that rundown barn. It was either the height of bravery or the very depths of stupidity. You are inclined to believe it is the latter. You scent the air and make out 9 distinct scents including hers. Only one is tainted with the light tint of magic. This will be an easy task. You take to the skies again and swoop down on the camp.

It took even less time than you had anticipated. The 7 bandits were easily dispatched before they were even truly aware of what was happening. The mage attempted to fight back but he was still weary form his earlier fight with the Protector. You choose to end their lives quickly. Your instincts cry for you to force them to suffer for what they have done to the last of your kin but she wouldn't want that. You spare them for her sake, nothing more. You stalk over to the barn. Your claws leaving bloody gouges in the doors as you break the lock with a single swipe. You scent the air again, testing for any traps, before shouldering your way through the opening. You see her then, lying on the floor unconscious. She is surrounded by benches and tables full of metal covered bones and half-finished runes. You hiss, wishing you had exacted a harsher death on the men outside. The flocks of stormwings carry the tale of killing machines made of metal and bone powered by the spirits of the dead. The thought of these vile mortals using the spirit of your kin sister to fuel such a machine makes the blood boil in your veins. You hope the Black God has made appropriate "accommodations" for them.

You stride over to her. She merely groans as you nudge her. You notice the large knot forming on the back of her head and you can smell the coppery tang of her blood. Reaching down, you use your beak to pull her up gently by her armor and carry her outside. You lay her down away from the barn and she groans again. In the dying late of the campfire you see the glint of metal. Walking over, you discover her weapons. You lay them down next her. You will carry everything on your back. She will not come back her again if you have any say. You look again at the barn. It needs to be destroyed. You walk over to the dead body of the disgusting little mage. There is another smell beside death on the repulsive man. You can detect the sickeningly sweet scent of blaze balm. It is fitting that he would be the source of destruction to his own atrocious work. With a quick flick of your beak, the corpse flies through the air landing in the barn with a thud and a crack as the jars break. You bend down and take the last of the burning logs from the fire. It follows the same path as the body and the blaze balm ignites. You watch with a righteous satisfaction as the structure burns. You let the light from the blaze reflect in your eyes as the building is devoured and you watch as the flames engulf everything inside. Nothing would be saved from the fires wrath. Creator and creations would be destroyed.

A slight moan catches you attention again. You glance up in time to see the Protector sit up and reach for her weapons. A warrior is always prepared. Striding over, you see she is operating on determination alone. Her hands shake as she refastens her quiver and slides her sword into its sheath. She glances at you as if she has only just now noticed you. She takes in the bodies of the remaining bandits and the barn burning behind you. She begins to shake her head but quickly stops. You can feel the pain that small movement brought her. You bend down and gently lift her. It is a testament to her injuries when she barely seems to notice when you place her on your back but she does lean forward. As she sinks her face into the feathers on your neck you take one last look at the barn. In an hour, there would be nothing left. The blaze balm would ensure that. The atrocities that were being constructed here would be gone forever. It is as it should be.

You check to make sure that your kin sister won't fall off and then gently take to the skies. You fly swiftly but carefully avoid disturbing the exhausted and wounded Protector on your back. You land in the village just as the eastern sky begins to brighten. A chick runs to retrieve a healer. The soldiers have returned as well and move to take your kin sister from you. You hiss at them, driving them back, and walk stride over to the healer's quarters yourself. The human burst from the building nearly running straight into you in his haste. You lower her gently to the ground while the man's hands begin to glow with a green light. You tower over the man while he heals your kin sister. Her chick, horse, and dog come next to you to watch. Sparrows line the roof next to you as they observe as well. The soldiers move forward again and you stop watching the healing warrior to glare at these men. The rising sun gives your eyes the look of molten copper while the glow from the working healer wreathes you in an otherworldly light. These men are reminded that you suffer them because of the Protector and they failed to protect her.

The healer declares she is well again and merely needs rest. You ignore the protests of the mortals as you bend down and gently pick her up. You glance at the horse and begin walking to the stables. Her chick understands and races ahead to open the doors. You reach a clean stall and gently place her down. Her chick removes her armor and weapons and helps make her comfortable before lying down next to her. He looks up at you but you nod and let him remain. Her dog pads in and takes a place next her as well while the sparrows line the railing around the stall. Her grouchy old horse takes in the scene before him. You can detect the relief and contentment in his own scent before he takes the empty stall next to her. He watches over her until his stance relaxes and he drifts off into a deserved rest. You reach over the rail, careful not to dislodge any sparrows, and give her a soft nuzzle. You pull the feather you had given her earlier out of her quiver and place it next to her. You raise your head and take one last look at the sight before you turn and face the doors. You reach out your paw to close the doors when you notice that your claws still have blood on them. You pull the doors mostly closed and lay down. You study your claws again and look over into the stall were your kin sister is sleeping. Content, you turn and watch the doors. You would gladly have you claws covered in blood if it meant she was safe.

Because she is your kin sister. Because she would rather give up her own life and happiness than let an innocent be hurt. Because she is the Protector of the Small and sometimes even the Protector needs a protector.


End file.
